Moon Racer (32 page)

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Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Western

BOOK: Moon Racer
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She glanced in her mirror and was horrified by
the blue-and-purple bruise on her chin and the
swelling of her left cheek. She touched her face and
winced. Her hair was tangled, and she brushed it
until it crackled. She dressed in one of her split
skirts and pulled on her boots.

On her way to the kitchen she discovered the
house was empty. The coffeepot was still warming
on the back of the stove, so she poured a cup and sat
down at the table, still feeling a bit shaky.

She buried her face in her hands, wishing she
could forget about what Edmund had done to her.
When she heard Jonah's voice, she stood up, not
wanting him to see her with bruises on her face.

But he was there, standing in the doorway, his
blue eyes soft, his hand held out to her.

Without hesitation she went to him and felt his
arms close around her. He touched his lips to her
forehead. "Are you sore this morning?"

She nodded, too choked up to speak.

He lifted her chin. "Do you remember agreeing to
marry me last night?"

"I thought I might have only dreamed it."

"It wasn't a dream. Do you still want me for your
husband?"

"Are you sure?"

Laughter rumbled deep inside him. "I have never
been more sure of anything in my life." He gently
touched her bruised cheek. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes." Her arms went around'his waist and joy
sang in her heart. "Yes, I will."

He kissed her gently, then put her away, not
trusting himself to touch her; just being near her
was enough to make his body tighten. "Abby, I
have to leave you for now. But I have already
spoken to Quince, and he's agreed to bring you to
the ranch. I want you to see it, since it will be our
home when we are not at Fort Fannin."

She remembered refusing to enter the house
when she thought Patricia would be living there
with Jonah. "I want to see it very much."

He pulled her back to him and smiled against her
cheek. "If you were my wife right now, I could take
you into that bedroom-"

"We're not married yet, and I want to wait," she
said seriously. "When we made love before, I was
afraid you might not come back alive."

He touched her hair. "Now we have the rest of
our lives."

Her laughter was the most beautiful sound he had
ever heard, and it seemed to set his heart free of the
shackles that had bound him for so long.

He held her away from him. "Abby, there are so
many things I want to show you on the ranch. I had
the whole inside of the house gutted and two more
rooms added on. I want you to choose furniture and
make it into the kind of home you would like to live
in."

She snuggled her head against his chest, her heart
so full she could hardly speak. She loved him so
much, and it seemed he loved her, too, although
neither of them had said the words.

He kissed her softly, and when he raised his head
his eyes were gentle with a calmness she had never
seen in them before.

He didn't have to say he loved her-she saw it in
his eyes, she heard it in the tenderness of his voice,
felt it in the touch of his hand.

Jonah walked toward Abby with long strides, and
her heart took wing. Then she blinked her eyes,
realizing she had never seen him dressed other than
in his uniform. He wore trousers and western boots,
and she could tell by the scuffed toes that the boots
weren't new. His green shirt was open at the throat,
and she could see a muscle working there. Smiling,
he lifted her off her horse, planting only a quick kiss
on her mouth, since Brent and Quince were
watching.

Big brothers, when they were as tall and fierce as
the Hunter brothers, could be a bit intimidating.

Brent was already assessing the white-faced
cattle in the stock pen, while Quince was looking at
all the building going on around them.

"Come, I want to show you the house first," he
said, anxious for her to like what he had done so far
and wanting her approval. He was also hoping he
could get her alone.

Brent started to follow them, but Quince put his
hand on his brother's shoulder. "Guess we'll be
looking the stock over."

Brent caught his brother's look and his meaning.
"Yeah-that's what we'll be doing, all right
looking at cattle."

Quince watched Abby's hand slide into Jonah's
and smiled. "I already told him he's going to have
his hands full with her as his wife."

Brent frowned. "We won't get to see her much
after she's married."

"But we'll know she's happy, loved, and taken
care of"

"Yeah, I guess so," Brent mumbled. He had
looked after Abby for so many years, he sometimes
forgot she would one day grow up and leave him.

As soon as they were-inside the house, Jonah
pulled Abby into his arms. "Going three whole
weeks without seeing you has been hell."

She raised her face to him and smiled. "Hadn't
you better kiss me then?"

He gripped her about the waist, drawing her
tightly against him, his gaze moving over her face, satisfied the bruises had mostly faded. He dipped
his head, his mouth shaping itself to hers while he
smoothly unbuttoned her blouse. He slid his hand
over her breast, lifting, caressing, touching,
knowing it was his right, or it soon would be.

"Ohhh," she breathed as her knees went weak
under his masterful manipulation.

"In three days," he whispered against her mouth,
"you will be mine."

She pressed herself against him, feeling the proof
of his need for her. "Yes. If you are going to run, it
had better be now."

"I am not going anywhere until I can take you
with me." He straightened her blouse and with a grin
buttoned it. "I think I should show you the house."

She spread her hand across his chest, noticing
that his heart was pounding in rhythm with her own.
"I think that might be a good idea."

"The men are working in the kitchen, so you can
see that later."

She stepped across polished wooden floors and
looked at a dining room that was twice as large as
the one at the Half-Moon.

"We will put a crystal chandelier in here," he told
her. "But you can decide on what you want. I know
nothing about furnishings. The only furniture I have
here is the bed." He smiled wickedly. "A must."

She blushed and lowered her head, and he
laughed. "Come; I'll show you the bed."

When he led her into the bedroom, she saw that it
was an enormous room. "I had the back wall
knocked out so it could be enlarged. I like the thought of a sitting room in the bedroom so I can
watch you sleep while I work."

The bed was of dark wood and huge.

Her mouth opened in surprise. "You must have a
great deal of money."

"Yes, a great deal. Does it matter to you?"

She locked her arms around his neck. "I would
live with you in a cave if you had nothing at all."

He pulled her down on the bed and molded her
against his body. His mouth was warm and seeking,
his touch gentle because he remembered her
bruises. "Abby, the truth is, for the next two years
we won't be spending that much time here. Will
you mind living with me at Fort Fannin?"

She ran her fingers over the frown lines on his
brow. "Wherever you are is my home. I don't care
where we live, as long as we are together."

He smiled. "We will have two weeks here before
I have to report for duty."

Quince's voice was loud at the front door, as if
warning them of his and Brent's presence. Jonah
got up, grinning, and helped Abby to her feet. "Our
first guests. Come with me. I have a surprise for
you-I hope you will like it."

They met her two brothers in the entry, and Jonah
led them to the parlor. "This was the first room the
workers finished. I had two walls knocked out in
here." He waited for Abby to notice the surprise.

She saw the four framed drawings that hung on
the far wall. On closer inspection she realized they
were her own sketches of Moon Racer. "These are not good enough to hang so everyone can see
them," she protested.

"Yes, they are," Brent said, looking over her
shoulder.

Quince nodded in agreement.

"There is a reason I hung the drawings, Abby."

She turned to him. "Why?"

"I had the brand of a rearing horse struck last
week. The name of the ranch is Moon Racer."

He laughed at the funny expression on her
brothers' faces and the astonishment on Abby's.
"Do you like it?"

"Yes. But how did you come to name it after my
horse?"

"I thought about a name, and nothing came to
me. Obviously I couldn't go on calling the place the
Taylor ranch. Then I thought of Moon Racer, the
only other love of your life, and it just seemed
right."

 

Abby came out of the general store, her arms full of
purchases. Tomorrow was her wedding day, and
her heart was not large enough to hold her
happiness. She hadn't seen Jonah since the day he
had shown her around the ranch. She smiled to
herself-the Moon Racer Ranch.

Her skin tingled when she thought of spending
the rest of her life with Jonah. She felt safe knowing
she would be under his protection. She still
marveled that such a magnificent man wanted her
for his wife. But he did.

She frowned. Her father was still in New Orleans
and wouldn't be attending the wedding. Brent had
sent Jack a telegram informing him about the
wedding, and he had wired back that he wished Abby
happiness. The general would not be attending ei ther, but he promised to come for a visit in the
spring.

Her brothers had been angry with their father
because he was buying more horses, and he was
probably incurring more debt for them to pay off.

But that was her father-he would never change.

She refused to allow anything to keep her from
feeling happy today. She passed the bank without
fear. The word had spread that Edmund was away
on an extended vacation. Only her family knew that
he didn't want to show his face in Diablo until it
had healed.

Quince had been almost sure Jonah had broken
Edmund's nose. She could not help smiling at that
thought -a broken nose would surely mar the good
looks Edmund was so proud of

She stepped into the street on her way to the
livery stable, where Navidad was waiting for her
with the buckboard.

"Miss Hunter, could you wait a moment? I have
been watching for you because I need to ask you
about something."

Abby nodded as she waited for Hilda, Edmund's
housekeeper, to tell her what was on her mind. She
certainly did not want to hear anything about the
woman's employer.

The woman was out of breath from running. "I
have been watching for you to come to town for
days."

"What is it, Hilda?"

"It's about Mrs. Montgomery. Some time back I
was cleaning out her drawers, like Mr. Montgomery told me to, and I came across a letter. I stewed and
stewed, not knowing what to do about it."

"Who is the letter intended for?"

"Mrs. Montgomery's daughter, Juliana."

"Why didn't you just send it on to her?"

"At first I thought about giving this to Mr.
Montgomery, but... well, I don't like the way he
treated..." She shook her head. "He's out of town.
I don't know where. He just up and went away in
the middle of the night without telling me he was
going. He left a note saying he didn't know how
long he'd be gone."

Abby gained a great deal of satisfaction from that
bit of information. He would not want to answer
awkward questions about his battered appearance.

"The way I see it," Hilda continued, "I don't
think Mrs. Montgomery wanted him to know about
the letter, or she wouldn't have hidden it among her
unmentionables."

Abby wondered if Iona had discovered
Edmund's true evil before she died. Her heart hurt
for the woman who had been like a mother to her.
"You are probably right, Hilda."

"Could I give you the letter, and let you decide
what's to be done about it?"

Abby nodded. "Yes. I'll see that it gets in the
mail today."

The housekeeper thrust the letter into Abby's
hand, looked about her as if she were afraid
Edmund would see her, and then hurried away.

Abby watched the woman dash across the street before she glanced at the letter. Although the
handwriting was shaky and smeared, Abby
recognized it as lona's. She didn't like the thought
of doing anything for Juliana because of the way the
woman had neglected her mother when she needed
her most.

Still, Iona had intended the letter for her daughter,
so she would honor her wish. With determined
steps, Abby made her way to the post office.

She was doing this for Iona, not Juliana.

The house was dark except for the soft lamplight in
the parlor, where Abby sat holding the same pearl
hair clasps her mother wore in the portrait. Abby,
wanting to wear something that had belonged to her
mother, had chosen to wear them at her wedding.

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